Collapses in Pink and Violence
by LadyLazarus33
Summary: The concept of pretending was not foreign to her, as his need to keep her headspace clear of cobwebs from his own nightmares was primary to their mode of living. But in this place, that was gone. Here there be liars and wine stained ghosts. Human!FACE Family/ Fem!America


**I DO NOT OWN HETALIA:AXIS POWERS**

The room is in disarray when she steps out of the elevator.

Papers fluttered through a mess of over turned chairs pushed hastily in different corners of the walls. The bed itself is practically ripped up, stuffing falling out of the mattress and almost all the way onto the floor. The couch is turned almost the wrong way. If she looks further in and even closer, she can see a lamp broken against the bedside table. A gust of wind from the approaching storm outside is drafting through the room, making her shiver.

She moves forward and the sound of glass crunches underneath her boots. The blond- _who she knows wasn't there before_\- turns his head at the exact moment. Amelia blinks, and in the next moment he's standing _much_ closer to her.

"What are you doing here?" The words are not cruel, but not inviting either.

His eyes stare unblinkingly at the young girl before she gathers the actual brain capacity to speak, though her eyes are still taking in his long and lanky form, dressed in a white shirt with half rolled up sleeve and a wide collar that looked like it had been cut. The jeans he wore seemed to almost hang off of him.

"I-" she began and he didn't even blink, hand moving up and fingers clearing her hair away from the side her face and brushing it back in behind her ear. Amelia gives a quiet, but sharp intake of breath as his dark blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to remember something.

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" The words are lowered slightly in tone and she can feel the sense of danger welling in her chest, but her feet remain planted to spot. The girl licks her lips and his eyes follow the movement, still close to her form.

"I-I'm just trying to understand-"

"How can you possibly understand?" He's circling around her now like a cat, steps slow and deliberate and she doesn't understand _why she can't move. _ "Do you know what it's like to be a lover?" His finger twirls a lock of his shoulder length blond hair, and she doesn't even make eye contact with him, gaze fixed on the fluttering curtains from the open window on the other side of the room. "To be half of a whole?" He breaths the words into her ear, fingers curling into her shoulder as he steps aside back. When he moves back in front of her, his fingers brush against the skin of her collarbone left bare by the V-neck she wore.

The digits themselves were freezing.

"N-no." she whispers and the answer makes him give a slow smile, white teeth flashing in the light of the room.

"I'll tell if you're real." Amelia watches as he moves backwards from her, eyes still trained on her form. "You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can't know for sure. But it doesn't matter." His hand reaches on a flung aside desk, shattered remains of a wine glass scattered all over it and grips the broken stem. She takes a step back as he moves one step forward, eyes wary. "Why doesn't it matter?"

"Because we'll be together."

Arthur is standing in the doorway of the elevator, stepping out into the room with eyes fixed on the man in front of her. Amelia looks back at him, grey eyes a mix of confusion and disbelief and opens her mouth to speak but one look in the vibrant green eyes screams _please not now. _

Her eyes flicker back to the man in the white shirt facing her. Something moves in the back of her brain and she can no longer see but hears and tastes and smells-

_sweet something in the funny looking glass on the table and if she reaches high enough she can just brush it with her fingertips she is small and the space between the two objects of her body and the counter seems to stretch for infinity hands grasps her waist and pull her up into a lap and the smell of wine seems to waft all around her and the chest she is leaning against rumbles with quand il me prend dans ses bras il me parle tout bas je vois la vie en rose hair like the pale yellow walls in her room tickles her skin as lips press against her cheek with a soft laugh full of such happiness and joy and love it almost hurt and_

_the man_

_sunlight in his hair_

_in him_

_his smile _

_is something to behold and this body is not hers not hers not hers not hers leaning against the railing no on the windowsill feet hanging outside and fear fear the man is sitting on the opposite across a sea of cars and city and night mouth is moving no smiling no and the heart inside stops at his shoe kicking off and disappears into the blackness below his mouth is moving again no speaking I gave you the choice of having to leave them please come back inside you're waiting for a train Amelia and Matthew are waiting for you but it doesn't matter please don't do this because you'll be together and falling falling falling into the dark and someone is screaming someone is screaming so loud_

The breath catches in her throat before it is expelled in a ragged exhale that seems more like a hiss of betrayal but she can't really form the words _of how what I don't understand why would you keep him from me like this how could you do something like this-_

"How could you bring her here, Arthur?" Francis' words are full to the brim with disbelief as he stares at his husband before his dark blue eyes flicker to the girl between them. Arthur's eyes narrow dangerously.

"Do _not_ bring her into this," he hisses. Francis smiles. The sight reminds Amelia of the edge of a razor blade.

"Did you even bother telling her how much I loved her? How beautiful she is?" His eyes move back to Amelia, the expression on his face something of amazement before looking at the man again. "Or was that too much for you to handle?"

Arthur takes in a ragged breath, heart feeling like it was constricting. "You're gone, Francis. I know that."

"I'm the only thing that you believe in anymore." Francis chuckles dryly. His eyes seemed to dark more than they already were.

Amelia frowns, wondering why her head was hurting so much at each word the two adults shot back and forth to one another. "But you waste your time and do nothing!"

"I was trying to save you-"

_"__You infected my mind!" _The words are spat and through the pain of her sudden headache she can see his hand tighten on the stem of the broken glass, shards glinting in the light before he surges forward, gripping her shoulder before Arthur yanks her back into the elevator and closing the steel bars behind them. Arthur puts himself in between Amelia and the bars as Francis' hands curls around the lines of the barrier.

"Please, love. I need you to stay here. " Arthur looks like he's about to break down.

_"__Vous l'avez promis ! Vous m'avez promis ! V__ous avez dit que nous serions ensemble. Vous avez dit que nous aurait vieillir ensemble!" _Francis screams. Amelia wants to cover her ears at the screaming of her parent, darting quickly around her father to press the button as Arthur frantically tries to appease the man on the other side.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Arthur's voice breaks and the elevator begins to move. Francis pushes off of it, eyes pure of full hatred and malice directed entirely towards the adult before his gaze flashes to Amelia, Cheshire cat grin creeping over his handsome features and she doesn't know what to do or say or think-

_I love you._

* * *

Her stomach burns when they wake up.

Arthur rises slowly, wincing at the sight of her ripping the needle from her wrist and stumbling to the bathroom down the hall. He can hear her dry heaves for several minutes before the toilet flushes, the light turns off and she comes out.

He looks her over, pale skin now almost dead white and eyes full of fear and betrayal. When he tries to speak, she only turns and moves into her room.

Later that night, he will lie awake, too afraid to dream at this point and listen to the sound of her sobs, muffled through the barrier of her door. Matthew will be there, some semblance of security as he rocks his sister back and forth breathing comforts and pressing kisses into her hair while Arthur tries to ignore the empty space in the bed beside him.

It will be one year before she forgives him for this particular act.

Six months before they are able to say anything about their absent parent without flinching

Seven weeks before she stops having nightmares.

Four days before she sleeps again.

And exactly twenty four hours until the man he loved will infect his own headspace and he's back trying to keep them together before the dream collapses.

* * *

**Inception! (Kind of) I entertain the idea of France being the shade, which sucks because he's dead. If it wasn't clear, Arthur repressed Amelia and Matthew's memories of Francis, more so Amelia than her brother, due to wanting to protect them and not wanting to face up to his own mistakes. He doesn't need Francis haunting their own dreams. Sad really. **

**But guys, Marion Cotillard as Fem!France. Does no one else see this?! **

**Songs that inspired this fic:**

**_The Mission_ by Ennio Morricone **

**_La Vie En Rose_ by Edith Piaf **

**French Translations: **

**(1) When he take me in his arms, he speaks to me in a low voice, I see life as if it were rose-tinted/pink.**

**(2) "You promised! You promised me! You said we'd be together! You said we'd grow old together!" **

**READ AND REVIEW! **


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